


A Pest

by Rionarch



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: Hate, Plague, Vermin, sickness-graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionarch/pseuds/Rionarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some are older then we think. The other ones are much younger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pest

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise character inside.

The body on the floors mat twitched a little in the last efforts ot stand up and walk away from the desolation around it. He had the wax forms of tablets and words around him, glyphs on it now distroted from the candles all over the place which gave the room a heedy smell of smoke and unpurely melted wax that simmered just underneath the smells of human waste, sweat, and sickness. His eyes were yellowed and the skin was pocked with red marks and black bulbs. A dark water spat out of his mouth with every cough becuase the blood stopped being fresh days ago.

Leanansidhe sat in the room, facing the open arch, as the clink of armor made it's way past. What she saw of him blended in but it was not yet _him_ that he would be. The helm and armor hadn't found themselves yet but Erlking was there. A harbinger of sickness and pestilence in summer.  Hot here it was, but Summer it was _not_. 

"This close to winter's power and you sicken my pets." The dead man groaned in his mat. He wasn't he pet anymore and she was no longer his muse.

"Better scribe something forever than in wax. It melts, already, in fire. Did Winter offer a man who's never seen ice to freeze it for him?" He said it with a laugh becuase he had not yet become himself and he would learn to never taunt what winter meant that way. A bit of blond hair slipped past the brass headpeice. She grabbed it and dragged his face down to her knee in a single move. He can still _laugh_ she can still _hit heisnotyetthepropersummerking_.

Her dogs howl and growl at him when he shoved her back into the wall slamming the dust around them. The dead man still clinging to life and huffs the sediment away from him. A flame flicked in his hand and onto his face- he melted and screamed. The Erlking paused and stared.

"He's a dead man." Hoofbeats were heard if you listened closely and they seemed to be approaching. It was what she wanted. Some blood went over he lips in an absurd match to her pet.

"Good of you to think so." Young Erlking grabbed the horse that rode by and left. Too young and too _stupid_. Everyone in this city would die- except for her little pet. The blood was running down his face and the sounds weren't muffled anymore. They were getting alive again. The fleas that peppered around the room and ont he body left with full bellies of blood. Little dots following their leader out of the room. Her pet wasn't their prey anymore. This wild hutn of disease passed now.

"He saw you, my pet. He your blood and didn't chase. What power does sickness have if it's hunter won't chase?" Everyone was running from the latest Summer plague by it's newest son; either on land or with their medicines. Her little Rashid wasn't allowed to run from it and he would live for it. Leanansidhe poked around the burn.

"You'll never forget your favors, will you Rashid?"


End file.
